Dies Irae
by Maria Rianki
Summary: A wrestler and a composer; just how did they becomes friends in the first place? And how would the friendship of Siegfried and Thor progress through time?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do NOT own History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi, nor any of its characters, etc.

Okay, so do you all remember how several times in the manga and anime Thor says something like, "My good friend Siegfried..." or "Siegfried was the only one I trusted in Ragnarok"? Even if you don't, you know now :) Siegfried is also shown that he obviously cares about Thor as a real friend- he (Spoiler for some of you) calls Thor first after waking up from his battle with Berserker.

I think they're both very good characters, and I wanted to expand on that friendship just hinted upon in the series.

And I know this story is rated T, but for those of you who would like a warning before one of those more violent (It's bound to be violent sometimes, I mean, come on- they join a gang, don't they?) chapters. For the chapter ratings, I used Fanfiction's system.

**Prologue:** **Rating: K**

And just another little note- This isn't going to be a yaoi fanfic, sorry for all you yaoi fans out there. Not that I hate it- I don't mind it. However, I just feel as if their friendship is purely that, _friend_ship.

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><p>The sun shone kindly down upon the clean, neat park walkway bordered by short yet lush grasses. Despite it being such a nice day, this particular walkway was mostly devoid of people, probably due to the motley group having a picnic in the middle of it. There was an odd arrangement of young adults, high schoolers and several multicoloured cats.<p>

The aforementioned cats were currently climbing over a girl with short, spiky red hair and narrow green eyes that seemed rather catlike in themselves. Sitting next to her was a thick, sturdily built teen who looked like he could snap your arm in half.

"Thanks for all these cats, Ukita, where'd you find them all?" The girl said happily, cuddling one against her face.

The boy smiled self-consciously as their eyes met and rubbed the back of his head. "It's no problem, Kisara. I'm friends with the overseer of a cat shelter, so... he let me bring some here to meet you."

Kenichi sat up and yawned, then sat back with his hands behind him, enjoying the feel of the sunlight upon his face. For once, the alien wasn't here. He had taken his ever-faithful non-general status subordinates and gone on some sort of scouting mission. However, Nijima had still managed to ruin it for him somehow. Kenichi had been looking forward to a quiet, romantic picnic with Miu, but when they were walking practically almost all of the others had met up with them and tagged along, claiming that Nijima had told them to meet up there.

Kenichi looked around. It was surprisingly peaceful. Tanimoto-kun was absent, of course, but the others were there. There was Kisara and Ukita sitting together. He wondered to himself when they would ever get together officially. Freya was also missing from the picture, but at least she was friendlier torward them than Tanimoto was. Takeda was leaning against a tree, his sleek blue haired head down and apparently sleeping.

Meanwhile, sitting on the grass by the blanket, were Thor and Siegfried. Kenichi looked at them curiously. Thor had mentioned several times that his only friend in Ragnarok had been Siegfried. It seemed a weird match to him- the easy-natured sumo wrestler and the eccentric 'immortal composer'. Casting a regretful glance at the now-sleeping Miu, he moved over to sit by the two.

"Hey, Thor, hey, Sieg." He greeted them.

"Ah, a new melody has joined our song! Hello, Kenichi-kun!" Siegfried said happily.

"Eh, just Kenichi's fine." Kenichi laughed awkwardly. Thor looked amused.

"Hey there, Kenichi. What's on your mind?"

"I was just wondering..." Kenichi hesitated. "How did you two become friends, anyway?"

Thor glanced at Siegfried, and Siegfried glanced at Thor, then they both looked at Kenichi.

"Should I let you tell this story?" Siegfried asked Thor. "I sense that our dear Kenichi would not want the tale told as a ballad, a beautiful story-song."

The wrestler chuckled. "You're right, as usual. Very well then. But you will have to fill in parts for me that I might have missed. Now, Kenichi... where to begin? Our knowing each other began way back in the first grade..."

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><p>There we go: the prologue.<p>

I gotta say I'm not expecting a lot of reviews for this story, since all of the 3 pages of fanfics for History's Strongest Disciple are about either Miu, Kenichi, or Tanimoto. There's a couple including the masters of Ryouzanpaku, but that's it. There's not even a proper character list for this anime/manga :(

But that's okay. I hope I can get more people interested in the less well-known characters.

This story won't be composed entirely of the past. It's going to include the rest of Shinpaku eventually, with, regrettably, a good deal of some of the more popular characters.

Going to update if I see some interest in this story, but if not then I guess I'll just relax my writing pace and work on some other pieces.


	2. Toffees

Just a note before you read this chapter. Please don't flame me about the basic sentence structure the characters speak in; they're grade schoolers right now, aren't they? I tried my best to make their sentences as simple as possible, but when I was a kid, english was a second language, so I have no clue whatsoever as to how the average little child would speak. If there's a word that a first grader shouldn't know that I happened to include, then point it out. But they won't be this young for long in this story, so... It doesn't matter so much if you overlook it.

**Rating: K+ for name-calling and general bad little kid behaviour. **

I'm using Japanese honorifics that I'm not completely familair with, and I'm afraid that I might have mixed up a few, so please tell me if any are out of place!

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><p>The small lunchroom was packed with young children all cheerfully munching on something, from kindergarteners to fourth graders. Every single table was packed of kids from varying grades...Every single table but for one in the corner, where a rather round child sat mournfully chewing a sandwhich. Some canned tea was next to the sandwhich, which he picked up after a moment and took a huge gulp from, then resumed eating. He had very short brown-black hair in a military buzzcut, and overlarge brown eyes that seemed rather out-of-place on his tanned face. Those eyes were his most distinguishing feature. They sparkled with intelligence that shouldn't belong on a first grader's face.<p>

Two older kids sitting not far away glanced his way and then stood up. To them, Yuma Chiaki was just an overweight first grader. They knew he came from a wrestler's family, but unfortunately they did not know that it was a well-respected one.

"Oi, piggy." One called as he sauntered over, patting back his smooth black hair. "Turn some of that fat into hair. Yours is so short that ya look bald."

Chiaki was the the only one in the entire school, apart from some teachers, who bore a buzzcut. He placed a large hand protectively over his head.

"I'm liking my hair. It's fuzzy." he said simply, then continued eating. The black-haired boy frowned, and snatched his sandwhich away. Examining it closely, he first pulled out a layer of peanut-butter covered swiss cheese, then some mayonnaise-covered tomato.

"Ew! Look at this, Kaede! Look at what this guy eats! No wonder he weighs what he does!"

"Please don' ruin my lunch, Atsuo-kun." Chiaki pleaded. "My mommy made-"

"_Mommy_?" The second one, a short brown-haired third grader, scoffed. "Are you joking? _Nobody _but the _kindergarteners_ calls their parents _Mommy_. Grow up, piggy." At this, Chiaki turned away and stared resolutely at the empty plate in front of him. Eventually they'd go away. Hopefully they'd go away before they-

No such luck. A hand grabbed his canned green tea and spilled it all over the table. Another pair of hands snatched away the special two pieces of candy that Chiaki's mom always slipped in to brighten his days. Finally satisfied, the boys left, leaving the first grader to stare into space where his food once was.

Chiaki let loose a small, pitiful sniffle as soon as they had left. The loss of the sandwhich he could take. The canned green tea he could survive without. But the special candies... Toffees. His favourite. And two- just two. Always two. His mom had always packed two, in case he made a friend.

Friend? He let out a snort of laughter. Imaginary ones couldn't share candy with him. And now, even if by some miracle one dropped out of nowhere and sat with him, he didn't have even one candy to give.

_'And the worst part is, I canna fight back at all. Mommy made me promise not to, since I migh' hurt someone...'_

lllll

It was a rainy Tuesday. Chiaki stared out the window from where he sat in the back as the class waited for the teacher to walk in. Giggling sounded. Paper airplanes flew around the room, often hitting Chiaki on the forehead and drifting down to his desk with their noses bent. The students had a lot of practice now that springtime was half over. Most of the airplanes managed to touch him now. He gave a sigh and sunk lower in his seat just as one that would have nailed him in the eye flew by.

There was a crunching noise. The teacher had walked in, and Chiaki knew by the sudden drop in air temperature that she had caught the airplane with that steel grip of hers and was now glaring at the disobedient students. He adjusted his light sweater-vest carefully and sat up straighter as Mrs. Hao walked to the front of the room, with a small boy behind her. His eyes widened.

_'A new student? Now?'_

"Listen, my dear students." Mrs. Hao announced. "I would like you all to welcome Hibiki Kugenin. He just transferred from another school, and as this is his first time meeting you all, I want you all to be friendly and welcoming. Say hello, everyone."

"Hello, Hibiki." The class chorused. Chiaki caught a few sniggers among the crowd, and he bit his lip. They had reason to laugh. This new student... He was a bit tall, and extremely skinny, which made him seem all the taller. His clothes looked to be three sizes too big and hung on his thin frame like blankets on a washline. His silvery hair was unkempt and unbrushed, falling to a little bit past his shoulders, while his palest blue eyes looked nervously around the room. "Hibiki, why don't you take a seat in the back there? There's a few free seats next to Chiaki." The boy nodded and shouldered his backpack. He seemed oddly strong to carry such a backpack despite looking so skinny.

"Hi." Chiaki said carefully as soon as the new kid had sat down. "My name's Chiaki."

"Hello, Chiaki-kun." Hibiki said politely, smiling at him, but before he could say anymore there was a slightly anoyed shout from the teacher.

"Please pay attention, Chiaki, Hibiki!"

The two exchanged a glance and giggled. A warm feeling rose up in Chiaki's large stomach and caused the muscles of his mouth to stay pulled into a smile as he bent his head down to look at the kanji they were supposed to trace.

"Psst. Chiaki-kun." Hibiki whispered. His eyes darted to Mrs. Hao to see if she had noticed, which thankfully she hadn't.

"Yeah?" Chiaki replied in a low voice.

"Thanks for talking to me."

The pencil froze upon the tracing paper. Chiaki's heart pounded. Here he was, the least popular kid in the school, and this new kid was thanking him for just saying _hi?_

"No, thanks for actually answerin' me." he replied.

The warm feeling returned, stronger than ever. Somehow, in the space of a few moments, they had become friends.

lllll

"This is the first time in my life that I'm sitting with someone else at lunch." Hibiki commented as he sat down across from Chiaki with a tray.

"That's all you got, Hibiki-kun?" The latter asked, surprised. Sure, his own lunch was rather big, but even when he compared Hibiki's lunch to any normal kids then the tall boy's meal was small. Some apple juice and a school-issue peanut butter 'snack-which' was all. The snackwhiches were as small as their name suggested, fitting comfortably into the palm of a third grader's hand.

"Well..." Hibiki looked a little nervous. "I... I'm not hungry, is all."

Chiaki looked at him askance. "If you're sure." he said doubtfully. "So how d'you like our school so far?"

"It's pretty much the same as my old school." Hibiki said, taking a small and careful bite of the snackwhich. "Everybody has the same few notes here as my last one, except for you."

"Except for- hey, wait, whad'you mean by 'notes'?" Chiaki asked curiously. He had asked just the right question. His new friend's eyes lit up as soon as he had said it.

"Exactly what I said! I can hear the notes of music that a person gives off. It's cool. I can't hear songs yet, but I used to be only hear the tone of a person. A week ago those tones became notes, repeating over and over. Your notes are different from these kids- and the teachers too! I like the notes I hear around you. They're not as messy and weird as everyone else's. They're like, neater!"

Chiaki gaped at him for a moment, then abruptly he laughed. It wasn't a cruel, sarcastic laugh. It was warm and full of genuine merriment, as much as his sparkling brown eyes were.

"You're strange, Hibiki-kun." He grinned. "But I think you're cool. If I coul' hear the music of a person, I'd say the exact same thing for you."

Hibiki was about to reply when his eyes fixed on something behind Chiaki. Noticing this, the boy turned his head around to see.

"The touching meeting of two idiots, it's so emotional!"

It was Atsuo and Kaede again.

"Hey, piggy, you better be careful. That toothpick across from you might steal your food." Atsuo sneered. "Oohh, wait- what's this? A note? Haha!" Moving quickly, he snatched the little slip of paper out of Chiaki's lunchbox.

"Give that back, please." Chiaki made a grab for it, but Atsuo held it above his head and read it aloud.

"_Dearest Chiaki, I prepared today's sandwhich with an extra helping of love. ~Mommy =)_. Now, wasn't that touching?" He said sardonically.

"Oh, stop, Atsuo, I'm crying." Kaede laughed, not looking sad in the least. "A smiley face? is she serious? Hey, buddy- let's take this note and post it on the school board! Then _everyone_ will see just how much Chiaki's mom _loves_ him!"

"Please don'! Wait!" Chiaki made repeated, but futile, grabs for the paper.

"Piggy! Piggy!" The two older kids taunted in unison. There was a loud slamming noise, and the three of them froze, turning their heads.

Hibiki had stood up, with one hand palm-down on the table. Chiaki looked at him with amazement. He hadn't really noticed it before, but right now his friend seemed as tall as the bullies, perhaps even taller.

"Chiaki-kun asked for his paper back. Maybe you should give it to him." He suggested pleasantly.

"Or- or what?" Atsuo faltered for just a moment before recovering his arrogant stance. "Do you wanna go, firstie? Do you really think you can take the two of us on?"

"If it comes to it, I bet I could." Hibiki smiled, and his knees bent slightly. There was a new light shining out of his eyes now that terrified his two opponents. Visibly shaken, Atsuo dropped the note and backed away. Kaede hastened to follow in his leader's footsteps and soon the two were back at the safety of their own table.

Chiaki picked up the paper and turned to Hibiki, awed.

"I guess it works differently on kids my age..." Hibiki was muttering to himself. "They run away, they don't hit me first."

"Hibiki-kun... were you actually going t' fight them? I never knew you could fight."

"Eh? Oh... I can't _really _fight." Hibiki looked embarassed as he sat down again. A pink blush was spreading across his pale face. "I just... my daddy teaches me self-defense. Er... well, since I walk home a long way from the bus stop... and a bad guy might go after a little kid like me walking down the street! Anyways, I noticed something. People have different notes when they fight, or feel like fighting. I heard it for just a second with those two bullies. It was... amazing, hearing those few notes!"

"Either way, thanks for saving me." Chiaki said gratefully. "My daddy runs a dojo, and he's teachin me some kinda wrestling. I'm pretty good at it already. But he said not to use it on kids at my school or anythin, so... yeah. Thanks, Hibiki-kun."

"It was nothing." Hibiki's cheeks were pink again.

"Hey- wait! I forgot about these!" A new, wonderful idea suddenly occured to Chiaki. He dug around in his lunchbox, and then withdrew two carefully wrapped toffees. He tossed one to Hibiki. "D'you like candy?"

"Can...dy?" Hibiki asked, clearly puzzled. "What...?"

"You've never had candy before?" Chiaki asked, and the boy shook his head, his long hair waving slightly with the motion. "You know, you surprise me every second! Just eat that. You can have it." To emphasize, Chiaki unwrapped his candy and popped it into his mouth. Hesitantly now Hibiki unwrapped his toffee before trying it.

"It's good!" Hibiki said, surprised. Chiaki laughed again at the delight on the skinny boy's face.

"I'm happy you like it!"

lllll

"Seriously, he was like this even as a little kid?" Kenichi asked Thor disbelievingly. "And I never knew your real name!"

"Thor is my real name now." Thor grinned at him, then tapped Siegfried on the shoulder. The composer had been staring into space, eyes distant, but snapped back to attention as soon as the tap was delivered. "Let's take turns now, okay? But please don't sing your parts!"

"I shall make sure of it!" Siegfried said solemnly, then cleared his throat. "Now, as..."

Takeda slowly stirred into wakefulness. He crawled over and sat with his legs crossed, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of long grass as he listened to the story.


	3. Welcome Home

**Rating: T for substance abuse and mild violence. **

Eh, this chapter kind of spirals away from the previous ones. I was hesitant writing it, since it gets dark in places, but that's life, and the contrast between Thor and Siegfried's younger selves pasts needed to be written. Take care.

lllll

A creaky wooden door opened and shut. Even with the lightness that it was closed with, disturbed dust floated down from the ceiling and made who had just entered the large single room cough. Hibiki covered his mouth with his arm, but could not completely muffle the sound that resulted when he placed his worn backpack on the floor.

A dark shape in the corner stirred, and this time it was Hibiki's turn to freeze. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights as the blanket slid off of the rising shape, revealing a large and unkempt middle-aged man. His hair was a dark black, as well as the thick stubble on his chin. But his eyes, although bearing an addict's abundance of swollen red blood vessels in the white area, had the same light blue iris as Hibiki's. Still, not only did his bloodshot eyes prove him to be a constant drug user, but his movements attested to a drunkard as well.

"Yo woke mee -hic- up." He slurred, then let loose another hiccup.

"Sorry, daddy." Hibiki said cautiously, edging around him. "I'll just go to my closet now and I won't bother you-" He had no chance to finish his sentence as a large hand swung around, fingers iron-stiff, and hit him in the back of his neck. For a grown man to hit a child in that area, it was a killing move. Hibiki went down with a loud gasp and lay motionless on the floor. His father swayed uncertainly on the spot for a moment before turning around- and in that moment Hibiki's eyes opened.

"_Animato..."_ He whispered to himself as he rose off the floor and executed a neat kick, sending his father flying across the room. With a crash, the huge man hit the wall and slid down, unconscious. Sighing, Hibiki continued on his way. "I'm sorry, daddy, but you're scary when you're like that." He murmured as he passed the prone body.

Hibiki was just glad that he was an only child; he doubted that any other kid could take his father's blows and live, much less emerge from the house relatively unhurt. He had a rough time of it for a few years himself, but slowly he got better at dodging the attacks just enough so that his father would _think_ he had hit him. If he had outright dodged, it would ignite a rage. Yet he had needed to invent a way to take out his dad should things get too serious.

Serious, indeed. If he hadn't been on his guard just then he would have died. Hibiki rubbed the area thoughtfully as he entered a small closet and shut the door behind him. It didn't hurt. The real hurt would come after the measly dinner the two of them always shared. Daddy wouldn't hit him again today after his thirst for violence had been satiated. It was hunger that hit him the hardest, awakened by whatever food he had managed to scrounge on the walk back home.

Hibiki sighed and stretched out as best as he could in the small space. He spent most of his time shut in the closet. Time worked differently in that space. There in the darkness it was just him and his ever-complaining stomach for hours that felt like days. Yet right outside the closet was a sleeping, and very drunk, tiger.

llllllllll

Chiaki walked sedately up the cobbled stone path. It was early spring now; the sakura trees were in full bloom. Turning to the right, he cut across a well-tended lawn and ignored the main entrance to the dojo, instead taking a side door.

"Mommy! I'm home!" He yelled, slamming it behind him. A very tall woman with long brown hair done up in a gleaming bun turned around. She was not like a delicate willow; she was more like a sturdy sequoia. Her arms must have hid some impressive muscle, because she put down the knife she was using to chop up garlic and picked up Chiaki, bookbag and all, embracing him.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're home!" She cooed.

"Aww, don' be like that, mommy!" Chiaki protested, but kissed her on the cheek all the same. As soon as she put him down he asked, "Is daddy still teaching?"

"Yes." She resumed cooking as she diced the garlic into professionally congruent cubes. "Today we're eating with some of his students in an hour." There was a loud thud and a crash from some room adjacent to theirs. The room shook. Chiaki's mother laughed. "They sure are a lively bunch!"

"It's sumo wrestling, righ', mommy?" Chiaki asked, setting his backpack on the floor. His mom nodded, her eyes and arms focused on pouring the garlic cubes onto a sizzling pan with some orange pepper. "Won't I be practicin some today? If daddy has time for me?"

"Daddy always has time for you!" A voice boomed. A gigantic man with Chiaki's lively brown eyes opened the sliding door at the other end of the kitchen. "In fact, why don't you come watch our practice now, Chiaki? Your brother is wrestling noowww..." He trailed off.

"Ooh! Ooh! Please, can I? We didn't have any homework today, so c- I mean, may I?"

"Go ahead." His mother smiled at him even as a spring breeze from a nearby window wafted the delicious aroma of her cooking underneath everyone's noses. "And close the door behind you, so nobody will get too hungry before it's time to eat!"

"All right!" Chiaki cheered. He ran for the door, but his father blocked the way. Chiaki pouted. "Do you want me to try tha' front-line tackle on you now, daddy?"

"No, no, you'd just ruin your nice school clothes!" The man chuckled. "Don't worry, this troll's toll for continuing on your journey is just a simple question. Tell me one new vocabulary word that you learned today during private study. In a sentence."

"Okay!" He chirped. "Umm... I got one! 'Swiftly'. The little boy swiftly dodged around his daddy and ran to watch the amazing sumo wrestlers at their work!" With that, he pushed in a chair and scooted around his father and out the door.

"Hahaha! Good spirit, son!" His father laughed, and chased after him, rolling the door shut once more.

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Hibiki sighed yet again as he sat down at the dinner 'table'. In reality, he had just spread out a cloth and tried to make the bread rolls look as appetizing as possible. At least his father wasn't there. He sometimes got those blissful hours of an empty house. The welfare checks mostly went to alcohol, but to pay off drug money his dad would fight for some gang or other. He was a formidable fighter, too, when he wasn't drunk. Often after excursions like today's Mr. Kugenin would come back with bloodstains on his clothes and a switchblade still open in his hand, sometime late into the night. Once he was gone for two days straight. Not that his son ever minded. Quite the opposite.

_'Whenever daddy comes back, his tone- his notes are completely different. He's fresh from the fight. I can hear like, an accent on the note of the surprise attack, and the exciting accelorandoes of the chase. Of course... it doesn't last long, since he always brings that yucky looking powder back... but while it lasts, it's beautiful!' _

Hibiki wolfed down the stale bread with barely a wince at the taste. The knife _and _gun were gone from his dad's blankets today, which meant he was out doing something really important. The boy would have time to do the one thing that had kept him relatively sane all of his young life.

He went back to his closet, but this time he delved deep into a heap of old child-care documents of questionable origin and retrieved a rectangular case. Opening up, he lovingly took out a 1/4 size violin, bow, and chinrest, fitting the supporting piece on. The violin wasn't really his. But it wasn't _stolen_, either. He had beat up a thief running away with it one day, and the oppertunity was just too good to pass up. He had taken the standard-issue violin home and hidden it somewhere where his father never would look.

"La La La LAA lalaaa... la la la LA lalaa..." Hibiki sung a few notes before putting bow to string. His fingers moved easily over the fingerboard, fluttering here and there like little butterflies when little trills were artistically added to the piece. His kindergarten teacher loved to play classical music whenever she could get the chance, and so he had developed a love for it. She had even begun to teach him some instruments that once belonged to her son, who was now in college. Those instruments were old, but tried and true, and had fitted him perfectly. Ms. Seika had taught him names of things in music, too. Crescendo, decrescendo. He loved the language. Then the nice lady had moved, and the sub replacing her did little to try and follow in her footsteps.

The violin and Hibiki continued to sing as one, while outside the daylight slowly dimmed.

llllll

"Thank you for today's meal!" Three of Mr. Yuma's white-robed students bowed.

"It was no problem, dearies." Mrs. Yuma called after them as they left. "Ah, I do enjoy seeing them growing into fine, healthy adults. I remember when they were your age, Chiaki!"

"My age..." Chiaki muttered. He nearly choked on his apple juice as he remembered. "Oh, right! Mommy, daddy, GUESS WHAT?"

"WHAT?" His father yelled back, caught by the infectious excitement in Chiaki's voice. But his little charade had the intended effect; after hearing his father's bellow, the boy realized just how loud he was being himself.

"Sorry!" he amended himself. "But anyways, guess what? I made a new friend today! He's a new student- Hibiki-chan. He's kinda weird, but really nice, and really cool! We both like a lot of the same things, and we both do our own training-"

"He does another martial art? What kind?" Mr. Yuma asked, his interest piqued.

Chiaki shook his head. "I have no idea. He doesn't look like he could do much though, since he's so skinny. I'm kinda worried about him. I know it sounds really mean, but I bet he can't afford a good enough lunch."

"Then invite him over here for dinner tommorow!" Chiaki's mother interrupted. "The more, the merrier, eh?"

"Really?" Chiaki's eyes shone.

"I'd like to meet him, myself." His dad chipped in. "So it's settled. Tommorow your friend's coming over after school."

"Hm..." For the first time, Chiaki's brother, Bak, spoke. He was a tall lad of around thirteen, slightly less massive than the rest of his family. A good deal less of his muscle was hidden by fat, which made him a bit scarier to look at than his father, even if he wasn't as good of a wrestler as him. His dyed black hair with brown streaks was eternally messy, and his eyes were a darker brown than his younger brother's bright ones. "Say, dad. Wouldn't it be better for me to spar with the kid? You might step on him by accident, and I'm- no offense to you, dad, but I think I'm a _bit_ more agile."

"Hey! Don't insult daddy, nii-chan!"

"-Nii-_san_!" Bak corrected him irritably.

"Eh heh heh, it's good, Chiaki." Mr. Yuma chuckled nervously. "I agree, Bak, you're not exactly suited for traditional sumo combat wrestling due to that speed of yours. But you're going to have to be careful not to hurt Hibiki-kun, okay?"

"Don't worry." Bak waved him off. "It's not fun beating up little kids. I'll go easy on him while you guys see how he fights."

Mrs. Yuma pursed her lips, but did not comment.

_'Being honest with myself, I don't know how my sweet baby Bak grew up this way.'_ She admitted to herself. _'He sounds like he's saying that it would be fun to hurt people his own age and older.'_

llll

With a contented smile on his face, Hibiki gently put the violin down. Suddenly, slow clapping sounded behind him. He whirled around, eyes wide. Standing in the doorway was his father, staring at him and clapping. His eyes were unreadable.

_'No! My... my violin! My treasure... he saw it! He... he was watching me play! No... it's all over for me now.'_ He reached behind him, and protectively held the violin close to his thin chest.

"I won't let you take it!" He said defiantly. He would have said more, then he heard the notes surrounding his dad. They weren't fuzzy and indistinct, like they would have been if he was drunk or high. They weren't quick and powerful, either, like they would have been if he had just been fighting. These notes were slurred, yes, but on a softer scale, all naturals instead of a dischordant combination of high sharps and low flats. They were definitely his father's notes on a different scale.

"It's all right." The man said unexpectedly. Mr. Kugenin walked over and crouched down by his son, who shrank back, eyeing him warily. "Why in hell did you hide this damn thing from me? You play like a damn saint, kid." Suddenly he stood up. "Keep playing." he ordered. "You can have my dinner afta' that. I ate at a bud's place."

"Really?" Hibiki sounded hopeful. His dad nodded and bent down to ruffle his long hair before heading for his blankets. From there, he leaned himself against the wall and stared at his son intently. His intense eyes were slightly disconcerting, but Hibiki shook it off. He appreciated these moments where his dad was not under the influence of anything, when he finally remembered that this brat in his house was his son.

With a smile spreading across his face, Hibiki lifted the violin once again, extending his wrist. The bow slid across the strings in a long series of half notes before beginning slurs. He kept vibrato to a minimum to make the piece sweeter sounding.

"Pachebel's Canon." His father stated. "Your mother often requested me to play this with her in duets. Of course that bitch-" Hibiki winced, one of his notes jarring as the bow shot up a little bit too high- "...always made me play second violin, but we still _did _sound like angels, ya know. It was the life." Mr. Kugenin stopped and then pulled the blankets tighter around himself. "Of course, that was before we had you." He added nastily.

Hibiki wisely remained silent. After a moment, the dangerous spike in notes beginning to play out around his father relaxed as his violin's music began to work its magic. The sharps changed back into naturals. There was no way he'd be able to keep this up all night. He'd have to play lullabies until his father slept and thus hopefully avoid another fight.

llllll

Thor looked down at his thumbs as Siegfried finished his part of the story. He still felt uncomfortable hearing about it after all these years. The both of them had put the past long behind them, and his friend was clearly not the least bit uncomfortable talking about it now.

_'I guess it's just disturbing hearing him say it all so matter-of-factly.'_ He thought ruefully. _'We both had such different lives back then, didn't we, Sieg?' _

"Oh, god..." Takeda had his head in his hands. "What would I give right now to punch that bastard for you, Siegfried."

"It's all right." Siegfried said amiably. "I still cared for him, and still do. I haven't met someone with his melody ever since."

"But- !" Ukita protested. He had joined them and was raising a fist in the air. Kisara, noting his agitation, hesitantly put a hand on his wrist and lowered it back to his side.

"Relax, Ukita." She didn't meet his eyes, but her blush was as clear as the boy's whose arm she was touching. "Let's just listen to the rest of his story, all right? I..." Kisara desperately searched for something to alleviate the odd looks she was getting. "I'd really like to find out how Siegfried progressed from that to having 20 cats at his mansion!"

"I want to hear more about Thor's family!" Kenichi said brightly. "Thor-kun, you have a brother? I had no idea."

Thor's eyes widened slightly, and he stopped twiddling his thumbs as he met Kenichi's curious, bright gaze. There was a long silence. A squirrel chattered angrily at a rival as they chased each other over the branches of the trees to their right.

"Thor-kun?" Kenichi sounded slightly nervous. 'I'm sorry if I insulted you, or anything..."

"No, it's fine." Thor chuckled, scratching his neck. _'Great, now I'M the one getting awkward stares.'_ "Let's just wait until we get up to that part of the story, Kenichi-kun."

llllll

Alright, I bet you all are wondering as to why they seem so out of character... well, they're kids. Not exactly up to killing others just yet, although you can tell Siegfried is obviously already starting to lean torwards attacking others for inspiration. Thor's not quite there yet, but in the next chapter you'll find out as to why he doesn't just sumo-wrestle the bullies and totally kick their asses.

I like writing Thor. He's a cool guy, and Siegfried's strange personality is too hard putting into paper. I have much more fun, believe me, recording the memories of the easy-going, relaxed former 7th Fist than the... well, there's no words really to describe Sieg.


End file.
